Saturday, May 15, 2004
Choosing a legacy. 
I used to write extensively. Used to get paid for it. And before the prose came the poetry Both of which, as my brain drifted off into streams of its own accord,; the ability to remember anything written, let alone the ability to do vamooshed And had an intense dislike of poetry, as I could never understand it, and guess it reminded me of things lost. (abilities)
But have had two lines for the beginning of a poem,; in my mind the past week or so,; and can't shake them. I worry about things that just pop into your head of no accord.; Are they of God,; or from the enemy? And yet, after perhaps more than 17 years of drought I can't shift this line. I'm talking about leaving things undone which we would rather not. obviously we don't pull the strings as to "when" we meet God, from a human perspective,; we all have thoughts about itWould it be a sin:Would it be a sin to go to bed and die
Maybe it comes from something I thought a week or two ago. That we all live on a timescale of uncertainty None of us know when this life will be through ; And perhaps I think about things to do with mortality a little more than I used to now,; by ;knowing and experiencing how fragile life is,; I ask this question,; which I think gives a basis for prioritising what is important. if I died tonight, is there anything that if I knew it was going to happen, I wish I had done, or said to someone; that if left undone would matter to those left behind
I'm sure we've all lost loved ones in circumstances we wish had been different.; Or maybe the whole relationship had been different, that by the very nature of it, has left us with regrets when the person has died.; But we can't alter time,; or turn back the clocks and change things.; (heck!; I've tried to do that for half a lifetime!); But having been in that position of regret,; when the person has gone,; wouldn't like to leave the same legacy.
So, I get mad a lot.
Mad as a flipping hatter!
But,; be angry and sin not. And; my anger is getting easier to keep controlled.; Though it still gets my goat how much sometimes I wrestle with it.; But angry words before bed,; I have done away with completely.; As I know how one of these nights, I could go to bed,; more than the norm would be expected for someone my age,; and not get up again.; And I don't want to hear those words that keep coming into my head as the start of a poem, would it be a sin, to go to bed and die. And feel the sting of regret of my own words to another as I leave this mortal coil.
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